


when i see the sun kissing the sea

by kaikaibalaum



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Bisexual Disaster Sokka (Avatar), Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Episode: s03e14-15 The Boiling Rock, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fluff and Angst, Gay Zuko (Avatar), IDENTITY SHENANIGANS, Insecure Sokka (Avatar), M/M, Oblivious Zuko (Avatar), Overly Dramatic Narration, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Slow-ish burn, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, basically i had a fever dream once of zuko in jail with long hair and then i had to write it, basically zuko is raised by a bunch of criminals which as we know is the best way to be raised, except not rlly - Freeform, i can't write, that only pertains to the fic a little but i like that tag, zuko as lee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27472612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaikaibalaum/pseuds/kaikaibalaum
Summary: "She slid the door open and pushed him inside. The cell was dark, lit only by the opening on the door. Before Sokka could take in his surroundings, he heard the shuffling of bedsheets and turned around reflexively.In front of him were two golden eyes, and a face half-covered by a scar."
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 261





	when i see the sun kissing the sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blacklipscurse (bealeciphers)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bealeciphers/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is this a volcano?” he whispered, his legs numb and his head feeling light. He’d die as a virgin sacrifice to Agni, thrown in a volcano before he could even see his dad again.
> 
> The Fire Nation probably made volcano sacrifices; they were weird like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome one and all to kai's Project. i have been thinking of this story for about two months now, ever since the lovely @hollypunkers woke me up from my writer's block induced slumber. thus why this is a gift to her! i have changed a few details of the boiling rock's canonical appearance and function for the sake of Fiction, so don't bully me over it, i have anxiety.
> 
> the tile is from the song shimbalaiê by maria gadu.
> 
> i re-wrote this prologue three times. i hope it's a good read. (10/11/20 - edited grammar and formatting mistakes) (for americans, it was november 10th)

To his own surprise, Sokka had found comfort in the flickering of a flame. The soft red and orange hue of the burning oil lamp was the only light source in his cramped cell, other than the small, rectangular window that felt more like a torture device than anything else. It tempted him with a full view of the outside world yet not granting nearly enough space for him to escape.

(Not that he would have any idea what to do after jumping off of a ship into the ocean with no land in sight. But still.)

The impact of waves against the ship’s metal hull sounded like a beast’s infinite roar, so constant that it had become a buzzing in Sokka’s ear. Never before had he prayed so often, begged for La to help him escape and return to his sister. His little sister.

Every night, he talked to Yue. Not out loud, of course, due to the constant company of Fire Nation soldiers outside his cell. He spoke to her and asked her to please look over his friends since he couldn’t anymore.

He had failed again.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

He had _one_ job. How did he mess up this badly?

Sokka knew how.

Hours after his capture, he could still remember how sharp Princess Azula’s nails had felt against his neck. The way her terrifyingly familiar blue flame danced menacingly so close to his skin. She had offered a bargain, even though the deal didn’t benefit anyone other than herself. Either Aang and Katara let her take him away alive, or she’d kill him herself, right then and there.

Sokka remembered his hands shaking, Aang’s panicked expression, and Katara’s widened eyes. She looked so young. She was _so young_. He wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , let her see another member of her family die in front of her.

Before one of them could do something heroic and stupid, he told Aang and Katara to let him go. He wasn’t worth the fight. _If everything goes well_ , he had said, _I’ll find you guys first_. Azula’s resulting laugh was as sharp as her nails.

So there he was, laid on top of a thin mattress in the cold ground of a Fire Nation ship. Princess Azula had spoken to him only once, on the day she had taken him. Her words had felt like rubbing salt on a large, open wound. _You’re nothing but a boy playing soldier._

Nothing but a boy playing soldier.

He lifted a hand to grasp at his shirt in a futile attempt to control his frustration. The washed-out red of the scratchy uniform they gave him felt awful against his skin, clashing with his skin colour in a way that he never thought he’d care for before.

He had lost.

Unlike the soft, sky blue of his Gran-Gran’s careful handiwork, the shabby prison uniform made his expression sour every time he looked down at it. Its meaning was clear: Sokka belonged to the Fire Nation now.

The guard outside his cell was a short, muscular woman in her mid-thirties. The few times she had looked at him, there was no discernible emotion in her eyes. He had guessed her name began with a K, but other than that, she was a mystery.

He had started calling her Kiki in his mind.

Kiki tapped her right foot if nothing happened for too long, in a rhythm so steady it led Sokka to believe she probably enjoyed music. He wondered if she danced.

The gentle tap of her armoured foot against metal flooring lulled Sokka back to sleep, the flame’s lazy flicker disappearing behind his eyelids.

—

He was forced awake by someone yanking him up, two rough hands fixing his arms in front of him, binding his wrists together with a pair of handcuffs. He didn’t understand the reason for so much care, since they probably didn’t think he was capable enough to fight back. It all happened so fast Sokka barely had any time to process what was going before being escorted down the hallway, up the stairs.

They had arrived.

The wind was fresh, but the sun felt warm against his skin, and the sky suggested it was early morning. Though there were many Fire Nation soldiers everywhere, Princess Azula was nowhere to be seen, which wasn’t something Sokka was particularly upset about.

The person who had woken him up— not Kiki, but instead another woman much younger than her— held him by the shoulder and forced him to move down the gangplank.

Something churned inside Sokka’s stomach, crawling like a creature trying to escape. The island didn’t look like a prison. He couldn’t see a single structure other than the dock and the road leading up the mountain. Which also didn’t look like a mountain.

The realisation hit him in an instant.

“Is this a volcano?” he whispered, his legs numb and his head feeling light. He’d die as a virgin sacrifice to Agni, thrown in a volcano before he could even see his dad again.

The Fire Nation probably made volcano sacrifices; they were weird like that.

“No.” the woman answered, after a pause just long enough to be uncomfortable.

Being dragged up to a volcano’s mouth by an angry woman while handcuffed and dressed in the most uncomfortable clothes he had even worn, Sokka couldn’t even bring himself to consider his mortality.

He tried to think about Katara.

Kept her in his thoughts like a lifeline, trying to distance the image of her face as he had last seen it, open and scared, but instead as it was when she challenged Pakku or learned a new way to move her magic water around. Or even when she found Aang, the only other bender her age she had seen before.

If he’d die, he’d die thinking of her. And he’d die thinking of her happy.

Sokka closed his eyes. _At least it was me,_ he thought, _and not her_. Someone shoved him, and he braced himself for death.

It never came.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. He was in a gondola. Ignoring the incessant trembling of his legs, Sokka looked out the window. Underneath the steamy fog, in the middle of a boiling lake, stood a building—a prison.

He couldn’t quite place what he felt then. Relief? Not really. He wouldn’t die, no, but something inside him argued that in _this_ place, he’d be as good as dead.

The entire gondola ride felt nauseating. The fog’s sweltering heat made Sokka’s skin feel sticky and made breathing harder, sweat dripping down his back and face. Below, he could see a man, dressed like the definition of arrogant, frowning up at him. Even from afar, to say he was ugly would be generous. All the worst aspects that could come with age were present on his face, making him look less like a man and more like a badger-frog with a wig on. Despite his lack of luck in the genetics department, the badger-frog man smirked smugly.

When the gondola came to a stop, the angry woman pushed Sokka forward, so that he stood face to face with the man. After examining Sokka’s face, his smirk turned into a frown.

“Have people mistaken my prison for a nursery?” he asked the woman, his tone aggressive, “Do I look like a babysitter?”

The woman didn’t show any signs of uncertainty, despite the man’s best efforts at looking intimidating.

“Princess Azula ordered his arrest here, warden,” she replied, painfully monotone. The warden’s eyes immediately widened, “I hope I’m correct in assuming you didn’t mean any disrespect to her Highness’ judgement with your comment.”

The warden nodded, though he still looked like he had eaten something foul. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the woman, who left with a bow. Tilting his head, he examined Sokka’s face, who mirrored his frown.

Unexpectedly, the warden smiled.

“It seems the little _lord_ will finally get a roommate.”

—

The Boiling Rock had proven itself to be a very unpleasant environment. The guard escorting Sokka to his cell— which apparently he would share with a man people called ‘little lord’— had a grip so tight on his forearms that it could bruise, and her tension was so clear it was starting to transfer off to Sokka.

“You won’t fool me, kid,” she snarled, keeping her voice down to avoid eavesdropping, “I’ve heard stories about the warriors of the Southern Water Tribe, your innocent act won’t fool me.”

Sokka remained silent. She pushed him down metal stairs toward the ground floor of the prison. Unlike the cells Sokka had seen above, those were larger, the only ones that looked big enough to house more than one person at a time. He assumed they were there as a reward for good behaviour, or maybe just remains of a previous layout. They stopped a few steps in front of a cell, and the woman lowered her head to whisper in Sokka’s ear:

“If you hurt him, Water Tribe, I’ll make sure that’s the last thing you do.”

She slid the door open and pushed him inside. The cell was dark, lit only by the opening on the door. Before Sokka could take in his surroundings, he heard the shuffling of bedsheets and turned around reflexively.

In front of him were two golden eyes, and a face half-covered by a scar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anything i've written in here is insulting or wrong in any way, please feel free to leave a comment or contact me @cuzunderthesea on tumblr.
> 
> if not, kudos and comments are still appreciated ^-^
> 
> constructive criticism is also welcome, but any comments i deem rude will be deleted.
> 
> love,  
> kai <3


End file.
